Decisions
by NicolettexMarie
Summary: Generic title, I know. Okay, so this is a fluffy little piece of goodness I worked up about the Ava/Simon/Johnny triangle after watching the episode where Simon and Ava get engaged. Sorry to anyone who hasn't seen it. Minor language. Read, review, enjoy


**A/N:**Okay, so, it's the summer, and as such, all I've been doing is writing and watching soap operas, which I'm a sucker for! I adore "Summerland", and I decided I needed to write a fic about it. This idea came to me not ten minutes after I had finished watching the episode where Ava and Simon get engaged, the name of which I cannot remember. So, anywayz, I'm not sure if this is accurate at ALL, but I adore the show and wanted to see it posted! Read, review, enjoy!

**Decisions**

Ava was standing in the kitchen, rooted to the spot and frozen in front of the fridge, shaking. She couldn't really remember what she'd been doing before; she could only think of what she _couldn't_ do.

Choose.

Wait, she thought, valiantly resisting against her mind following that path. What did she _know_?

She knew it was Saturday. (The calendar said so.)

She knew she was engaged to Simon O'Keefe. (There was an oh-so-Simon ring on a very important finger.)

And she knew she was hungry. (Her stomach was growling impatiently.)

But she couldn't decide what to eat. It was stupid, really, a simple, trite decision that she could have made easily on ANY other day: a ham sandwich, or a salad for lunch? It was like deciding what to wear, and she was a designer! The decision should have been easy after only a bit of thought and easily changed, so no harm done. And yet... somehow, it was different today.

Ava considered the benefits of both as she stood with the refrigerator door open, cool air washing over her.

Ham sandwiches were good. She liked meat and cheese and mustard; the layers were yummy put together even if not TOO appealing alone. They were... well, not as healthy as salad, but healthy nonetheless! And with ham sandwiches, any side and drink would go well.

But salads were... well... more fun! They had even more variety, more shapes and colors. Salads could be made with anything - spicy, sweet, bitter, and on and on. Salads were healthy, and as her mother used to say, good for the soul. Not too filling, but hearty enough to make her feel warm and happy. Sure, salads were complex, and took longer to create, but by the time they were done, they were always WAY worth it! And the dressing. Italian, ranch, catalina, anything she wanted! The freedom coupled with variety was nice.

Although, ham sandwiches were FAR more dependable. Only so many layers, and easy to read. They stuck with you when you hadn't bought groceries in a while and were at a lack for things to eat. Not to mention, kids loved sandwiches! They were easy, convenient, and not messy at all. Most of all, ham sandwiches were... well, safe.

Salads were... _not_ dependable. Sure, you got to choose what to put in them and how to let them affect you, but they were high-maintenance, not always convenient, and sometimes so complex that they were fickle. The thing was, though, when prompted, kids loved salads too, perhaps more! Salads were fun, and made them feel alive with choice, as they did her.

But in the LONG run, Ava asked herself, what was better?

She still could not decide.

"Aunt Ava? Aunt Ava!"

She gasped and jumped about a mile, waking from her indecisive stupor to face Nikki Westerly, her neice. "Yeah?" she said, the handle of the door of the fridge still in her white-knuckled grasp.

Nikki gave her a skeptical look. "If you stand with the fridge open like that long enough, food will go bad," she said in that eloquent way of hers.

Ava started. "Oh! Oh, right." She swung the refrigerator door closed more violently than she'd intended, angry at herself that she could not choose.

Nikki leaned against the counter, watching Ava. "Are you okay?" she asked bluntly.

Ava nodded. "Yeah! Yeah, Nik, I'm fine. And are you-?"

Nikki frowned a little. She didn't like Ava's engagement to Simon, not at all. She _knew_, in her heart, that Johnny was the right man for her aunt, 100. But what could she do? She nodded. "Fine. I'm gonna go read, okay?"

Ava nodded as Nikki began to walk away, across the living room, to the stairs.

"And Aunt Ava?" Nikki called before ascending.

Ava looked at her.

"If you can't decide what to eat, maybe you should ask yourself what you're _really_in the mood for." And with that last, Nikki went up to her room. Luckily, Ava missed the small smirk of intelligent pleasure on her niece's face.

Ava sighed, her brow furrowing in determination. She turned back to the fridge and opened it.

Her stomach growled again.

She was _really_ hungry, and of course, the problem wouldn't go away on its own; she'd _have_ to choose sometime.

Sandwich, salad, sandwich, salad - she went back and forth, deciding and undeciding, feeling both silly and a little desperate. God, why couldn't someone just make the choice _for_ her!? Eat a sandwich, have a salad... It should be so easy!

And then something Derrick, her youngest nephew, had said, floated back to her.

_Listen deep down in your heart to that tiny voice._

(Or, something along those lines.)

And she did, she listened. Hard.

Ava jumped again when the front door opened.

And in walked... Johnny?

She was speechless.

And still indecisive, dammit.

"Hey," he said, and his voice was husky, low, and there was something in the way he looked at her. Even - and perhaps most especially - now.

There'd always been something in the way he'd looked at her.

"H-Hi," Ava choked out, the fridge still open.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Gonna stand there with the fridge open?"

She looked at it, then looked back at him. "Yeah," she replied defiantly, not sure why she suddenly felt so defensive. Ah, Johnny, always bringing out the best in her.

"Can't decide what to eat?" Johnny guessed, walking a few steps toward her.

She gulped. "Nope. It's a tough one."

"Choices?" he asked.

Ava replied slowly. "Ham sandwich, or salad."

Johnny grinned. "I like salad."

You would, she thought, but only said, "I like ham sandwiches, too, though."

"But not as much?"

She stared at him, and cursed herself for shaking when he came yet closer. "I don't know, really," Ava replied. "I thought I liked sandwiches better, but... then I found the salad in the fridge and can't decide." Ava was still holding on to the door firmly.

Johnny nodded, and was now leaning against the counter facing her. "I see. Well maybe you should consider your history. I know in the past, you've traditionally been a salad fan. Sandwiches came into the picture mainly because of the kids. Am I right?"

Ava swallowed. "True. But at least with sandwiches, I always know what I'm getting. It's harder to tell with salads, because the dressing on top covers most of the deeper ingredients. Which are important," she added.

Johnny nodded again. "That's true, too. Well maybe, for once, you can try the salad when it's _not_ wearing any dressing. You know, when all the ingredients are exposed. Vulnerable."

Ava didn't know how it happened, really, but suddenly, Johnny was _around_ the counter, and standing directly in front of her.

Now this was serious, Ava realized. But for some reason, she could neither move a muscle, nor formulate an intelligent reply. All she could manage was a nod.

Johnny moved closer, also nodding. "Maybe, Ava... the sandwich is just not as good of a match to your tastes as the salad."

Ava was still trembling, and she gasped when Johnny pushed on the refrigerator door. It closed, her grip having slackened.

And it was only a second more before he was kissing her.

Long, sweet moments of kissing. Johnny's kiss... she knew it well, but had somehow forgotten it. And somewhere, deep down in the smallest, yet most important corner of her heart... the choice she'd REALLY been struggling with was made for her.

When Johnny pulled away, Ava's eyes were shining with emotion.

So were his. "Have you decided?" he asked quietly.

Ava's stomach growled again, but she barely noticed over the thumping of her heart. "Yeah." It was only a whisper. Looking down at her hand, she pulled off Simon's ring slowly and placed it on the counter to give back to him. "I choose the salad," Ava whispered. And she meant it. A small smile graced her face.

Johnny's face broke into a grin as well. "Good," he said back quietly.

And together, they turned to the fridge in quiet, wonderful companionship to prepare the best damn salad either of them had ever seen.

-fin-


End file.
